Sam Is Angry
by Siarh
Summary: Sam stumbles upon the Reader and Dean defiling his research. "And here I thought you were just a quiet little book worm."


_A/N: This one is for BabyTDS, who patiently waited for me to get done with Chaos and Clothes so I could focus on some Sammy smut. Unfortunately being the Dean girl that I am, I could not keep him out of the mix as well. Hope this meets with your approval, sweetie._

 _Also is unbetaed so all mistakes are my own and I admit I have a hard time keeping my tenses straight, so apologies now for any switches you find._

* * *

"Really?" Sam sounds beyond annoyed. You couldn't help yourself from grinning against the polished surface of the library table Dean had you pinned to.

"Lighten up, Sammy," he offers as he shoves your hips against the tables edge, his hand holding the back of your neck flush to the table so you couldn't even look at his little brother.

"That research has taken months to compile!" Sam argues. "And you two could not find any other spot to do that?"

You raise one hand, twisting it apologetically through the air. "I was just sitting here minding my own business, reading that," you point to the 16th century vellum book open on the table amongst the smattering of papers, notebooks, photographs, and print offs. "This," your hand gestures to Dean and yourself, "was his idea," you insist as you pant against the table top.

"Yeah it looks like he completely had to twist your arm there, Y/N." You hear Sam walk into the Men of Letters research room, a slow shuffle of his feet. You notice his movements didn't seem to even phase Dean who kept up the same rhythm he had before Sam's appearance. Your pussy constricts involuntarily around Dean's cock as Sam's hand appears on the back of the chair across from you. You watch as he slowly lowers himself into the seat, his eyes dilated and focused only on you. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, before he flicks his gaze up to Dean. They seem to share one of those silent brotherly chats that normally annoy the crap out of you but Sam's eyes are back on you before you can get even a tiny bit upset at their absence.

He leans forward, folding his hands and laying his arms parallel to the table edge. He is slow, methodical in his movements, making you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head of his.

Dean's angle changes behind you, and you see stars form in your eyes as you clench your legs tighter together, the apologetic hand flying to grip his hip. "Mother of God," you hear him mumble, his thrusts faltering for a moment. He moves his hand from your neck to the middle of your back.

"And here I thought you were just a quiet little book worm," Sam starts, his voice self assured as he hooks a finger under your chin, making you look at him. That tongue of his appears again, drawing your attention back to his lips, your body tightening around Dean's cock in response, making you both moan.

Sam's finger meanders up your chin and gently traces your lips, his eyes following the digit. For a brief second you wish it was his tongue and in a flash you were at the point of no return. Gripping the edge of the table with one hand, the other grasping at the perfectly polished surface below you, your body hurdles over the precipice of joy and you tremble below Dean. You hear him growl, his thrusts turning deeper, sawing into you as you ride the wave of pleasure.

As you pant out your release, you hear Sam chuckle darkly, his hand moving over your cheek, a finger anchoring under your jaw bone to keep your head up. When you can finally open your eyes, you find him leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place.

"Dirty girl," he says smugly, his hand sliding down your neck, making your eyes fall close as you lean into his touch. "Ah-ah, eyes open, Y/N," he insists, his hand pausing.

Ripping your eyes open, you find his dark eyes closer now as his fingertips dipped under the collar of your shirt. "Dean was so eager to get in your pants, he didn't even bother ridding you your shirt." Sam clicks his tongue. You weren't going to argue with him, but truth is you had been teasing his older brother for the better part of the day. Between suggestive texts, glimpses of you coming out of the shower room in a towel no bigger than a postage stamp, and leaving your door open as you dressed, you knew you were damn lucky Dean hadn't torn the clothes he did take off your body.

Sam pulls your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra and the panties Dean had shoved to the side to get inside you "That's better," he smiles at you, as he scoots his chair closer to the table, his hand ghosting over your shoulder, making you tremble at the soft touch in stark contrast to the bruises Dean was putting across your hips bones.

Raising on your elbows, you look up at Sam's face, watching his eyes follow the trail of his fingers over your skin. Reaching out one hand, you pluck at the buttons on the front of his shirt with your fingers, some sliding open, others not. It's hard to make your fingers work properly when Dean begins to erratically fuck you across the table. Crossing your ankles, you arch your ass in the air. Sam's eyes fall back on you as Dean hisses his appreciation. Tangling your hand in the front of his shirt, you drag him closer, pressing your lips to his as Dean's hips stutter behind you, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. Sam's tongue is in your mouth before you can blink and your own tongue joins the age old dance as his hands settle on either side of your face, holding you in place as he plunders your mouth. Dean slumps forward, settling his forehead to between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath. You don't seem to even notice as he presses a kiss to your skin before standing upright. You do notice when he withdraws from you, making you hiss at the sudden loss of him inside you.

Sam's hand comes up to brush hair back from your face as he leans back and watches your face. Opening your own eyes, you find yourself flushing at his attention. Biting your lip you try to pull him closer as Dean's hand ghosts over your ass. Your lips touch as Dean's palm lands heavier on your ass, making you yelp into Sam's mouth.

"Dirty girl, indeed," you hear the gravely response behind you.

Reluctantly you pull away from Sam's mouth to look over your shoulder. "Don't you have something else to do?"

Dean stares hard at you, an almost sinister smile finding its way across his face as his hand tightens on your ass. "I think I ought to stick around," he insists as his fingers slide through your wetness, teasing you.

"Suit yourself," you mumble before grabbing a handful of Sam's shirt and drag his mouth back to yours. His hand finds its way into your hair, tightening around the stands, dragging you with him. He looms over you and the table, almost bending you backwards, making you rise on your toes to reach his mouth as Dean anchors your hips to the table's edge. Looking for someway to climb, your foot finds a chair only to have it skitter backwards into a bookshelf when you try to put your weight on it.

"Eager much?" Dean asks as you feel Sam's hands hook under your arms, and drag your body across the table. You hear papers flutter and notebooks hit the floor.

"What about your precious research?" you tease as Sam deposits you on your back on the table.

Smirking at you, he pulls your bra from your body as you see Dean move around the table, his hand combing through your hair. "Most of its on the floor now," he mumbles against your neck. Arching your head back, you curl your legs so your knees pressed to Sam's hips, drawing his fully clothed form between your legs. You moan softly at the feel of his shirt against your hardened nipples, buttons glancing off your sensitive peaks.

Dragging his teeth over your skin, Sam moves down over your shoulders, leaving small little bites that make you hiss with each pinch.

You feel a hand still gliding through your hair, fingers gently caressing your ear, making you turn to look over at Dean. Leaving one hand in Sam's hair, your other lands palm up on the table, close to Dean's hip. He smiles as he twines his fingers with yours, drawing the back of your hand slowly up his chest to his mouth. Mind numbingly slow, he lays soft kisses to each finger tip, making your head spin faster. Your eyes fall closed as Sam's hot mouth finds your nipple, his rough tongue swirling around it.

"Oh fuck," you curse as your back arches.

"You can almost get her to cum that way," Dean encourages his brother.

Sam hums against your sensitive skin, making your legs flex and contract around him as his teeth score your skin. "Sam," you mutter.

You feel Dean drawing one of your fingers into your mouth, and your body spins out of control. Grabbing Sam's wrist, you guide his calloused gun hand up to brush against the other nipple. Pinching it between his thumb and finger, the hot liquid feeling in your belly spreads suddenly through your body, making you cry out loud at the overwhelming sensations of their mouths on your skin. Your back tightens, your head tilts back and you hand around Sam's wrist grips him tighter as you shudder through your second orgasm.

This certainly wasn't what you expected when you send those dirty texts to Dean this morning. "Or I guess **you** can get her to cum that way," Dean says, his voice almost in awe, his breath skitting over your wet finger.

Licking your dry lips, you suck the bottom one between your teeth as you catch your breath. You wiggle under Sam's weight, his chin resting in the valley between your breasts, his hands skimming over your sides. Hooking your feet on the back of his thighs, you hold him tight to you as your hips press up. Hearing him groan softly, you slowly open your eyes, watching the hunger that spread across his face.

You sit up, pushing at him shoulders, shoulders that wouldn't quit, your eyes never leaving his. Dean reluctantly lets go of your hand as you push at Sam's shirt, divesting him of it. Your fingers play over his warm skin, mapping every groove. As your fingers found those two lines that lead to the fly of his jeans, your smile widens. The front of his pants are dark, not from him, but from your own juices. You had soaked him. And you were not the least bit sorry as you push his jeans and shorts to his knees.

You watch his face closely as your hand wrapped around him, hot in your palm. His eyes fall shut as his hips hitch forward slightly at your strokes, your name escaping on the next breath from between his lips. Dean presses a kiss to your shoulder, making you look at him, his own eyes dark. Giving him his own smile, you kiss his forehead before guiding his lips to yours. You stifle a soft sigh as his tongue breaches your lips, your hand around Sam tightening. Leaning back on your elbow, you line Sam's cock up to your pussy, teasing yourself with just the head, gliding him through your copious amount of slick. He groans as you settle him at your entrance. Unable to hold back, he pushes into you with one fluid motion, burying himself deep. You grasp loudly into Dean's mouth at the feel of Sam reaching places that Dean hadn't with you leaned over the table. Your legs tighten around Sam's hips as he pushes just a little harder, relishing the feel of you tight around him. Settling one hand on your hip, the other on the table, Sam draws back a small amount before pushing back. You growl against Dean's lips, his teeth nipping at your lip. "Show Sammy what you can do with that pussy of yours." he encourages.

"My pleasure," you say wickedly against his mouth, your hand finding its way to Samm's ass as he begins to rut into you harder, faster. You feel yourself ripple around him, this angle making him press deeper in you. Hooking your leg over his elbow, you mewling at the stretch of your tendons and the delightful shivers he is sending through your body as he hits just the right spots with each stroke.

"That's it, big boy," you mutter, his body tight to yours as you both aggressively fuck each other, your hips rolling in perfect time with his. You can hear the wet sounds of your coupling, making you clench at him. Dean wasn't exactly a gentle lover, but this is something different. This was a whole level of raw with Sammy. Maybe it was because it was your first time together, along with the added level of naughtiness that forbidden fruit held. With a whimper, your hand scratches at his back, drawing blood as his thrusts became shorter, keeping himself as deep as possible in you, his hand holding you in place as he savagely fucked you.

"Atta girl," Dean says, his hand wedging itself between you and Sam, his touch surprisingly sure considering how close his hand was straying to his own brother's dick, making you half wonder if this wasn't the first time they shared a woman. Your body tightens around Sam at the thought that you weren't the first woman in this spot and with a single stroke of Dean's finger against your clit, you keened loudly. Dean's name tumbling from your lips first, followed closely by Sam's as you felt his hips stutter above you. Your body turns into molten lava at their strokes. Your hand gripping tightly to Sam as he sandwiches Dean's hands between your bodies as his hips jerked tight to yours. Your hand wraps around Dean's wrist, tugging on it, silently begging him to stop touching your overly sensitive bundle of nerves as she trembled below Sam. The two of you slumped into a sweaty ball as Dean hummed his approval, kissing your forehead and ruffling Samm's hair before wandering out of the room.


End file.
